


The Beginning of the End

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [30]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousins, Family, Friendship, Gen, Invasion, Loyalty, Male-Female Friendship, Númenor, Spies & Secret Agents, Treason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ar-Pharazon, at Sauron's urging, plans to invade Aman. Ar-Pharazon's squire Imrazor plots to betray his King.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Set in Second Age Year 3319.

Ar-Pharazon the Golden, great King of Numenor and Liberator of Middle Earth, sat in state in the great hall of Armenolos, the city of Kings. Dark-haired and pale-skinned, with the all-seeing gray eyes of the line of Elros Tar-Minyatur, the King commanded the attention of every eye. 

"Ready Alcarondas," Ar-Pharazon ordered, speaking of his mighty flagship with the black and gold sails, "And bid my Captains to prepare for a voyage of...." 

"At least a month, great King." Murmured Sauron, Ar-Pharazon's Chief Advisor, from a smaller throne on the King's right. 

The King smiled, a cold gleam of triumph in his eye. "By my birthing day, we shall rule in the West, and be immortal!" 

Sauron smiled in turn, his dark eyes shining. "It shall be as you say, mighty King. The world entire will finally know a ruler worthy of praise and obedience." 

To the King's left stood the Prince Imrazor, Ar-Pharazon's squire and adopted heir. He was terrified, but he'd been terrified for most of the past year. He managed to hide it well enough, at least until the King dismissed him. Imrazor pretended to be tongue-tied in the presence of the great Sauron, and Ar-Pharazon didn't question it. Sauron didn't like children, and at thirteen, Imrazor still acted child enough to keep himself away from the fallen Maia's attention. 

"They mean to do it, 'Cali." Imrazor told his cousin later that day, draining half a bottle of wine in one long gulp. 

The Lady Ancalime, one of the reigning young beauties of Ar-Pharazon's court, took the wine bottle away. "Getting drunk as a skunk won't help that, 'Razi." She lectured the younger teen. 

"No...but it was....they just sat there and...they're going to try to kill the Valar, 'Cali, if the Valar won't bow to Ar-Pharazon! Can the Valar even be killed?" 

"I don't know." She replied gravely. "Imrazor, we need to talk to your father. Or mine. Or Cousin Azruben. Somebody who will know what to do." 

"There's not time. My father is in Romenna with the fleet, yours is in Eldalonde. And I think that Ar-Pharazon is starting to suspect Azruben." 

Ancalime cursed, and tugged on a dark curl tumbling fetchingly loose from her her braided and bejeweled hair. "Does he know?" She asked quietly. "That he is of the Secret Faithful? And if he knows of Azruben, who else...." Was her father at risk, Ancalime meant. And her mother, and sisters, and everyone who served them. 

Imrazor shook his head. "I don't think that Ar-Pharazon knows anything, not for sure. I think that Azruben just didn't sound enthusiastic enough when Sauron first proposed to the Council of the Sceptre that we sail to the West and conquer Aman." 

Ancalime laughed bitterly, getting up to pace. Her diaphanous blue-grey gown moved about her like the sea in the wind from the east. Imrazor just watched her, wondering where the fluff-headed gossip of two years ago had gone. 

"So he wants us to smile and cheer as we race to our doom. As we make of ourselves heretics, unfaithful and ungrateful for all that we've been given." Ancalime said, angry and disbelieving. 

"Fatuously." Quipped Imrazor, "He wants us to smile and cheer fatuously. He is the great Ar-Pharazon, conqueror of Mordor..." 

"Sycophant of Mordor. Fool of Sauron." Ancalime hissed. 

"Careful, careful, Cali dear." Imrazor lectured, wondering when it was that he had become the careful one. Somber as a ghost, Imrazor stood up beside his cousin, squeezing the marble rail of the balcony. "They mean to do it, Ancalime. And Sauron has advised that cousin Ar-Pharazon send a quarter of the fleet - one hundred ships - to Andunie." 

"To Andunie?" Repeated Ancalime, not seeming to understand the significance of that. 

"To Andunie, to stop Lord Elendil and the Faithful from sending more ships to Middle Earth. Maybe to put them all to the sword, even." Elendil's father, Lord Amandil of Andunie, had disappeared the year before. Where he had gone and for what reason had not been shared with Imrazor or Ancalime. Imrazor hoped that the Lord's disappearance wasn't the work of Sauron. Amandil would not be the first Lord of Numenor to disappear into the fires burned for Melkor, for Morgoth who was Sauron's dark master. But he would be the mightiest, and if Amandil, who had once been as a brother to Ar-Pharazon, could be disappeared, then anyone could. 

"Get a message to your father, Imrazor." Ancalime advised, "He can arrange to have word sent to Lord Elendil."

Imrazor shook his head. "Not in time. They've been preparing for this for a long time, I think, 'Cali. Father's last messages said that the fleet was nearly ready to sail, all four hundred ships. Ar-Pharazon always heeds Sauron's advice these days. He's not going to wait long to send the detachment to Andunie. They have maybe a week. At most two, if father and his men can delay the departure."

"Well, what can we do?" Ancalime asked. 

"I don't know." 

The two cousins sat in silence for a few moments, as they watched the stars come out over Armenelos. 

"I think....I think that I should ride to Andunie." Imrazor said, "To warn Lord Elendil. Now, tonight." 

Ancalime turned to him, goose pimples raised on the pale skin of her arms under the serpentine gold bracelets adorning them. "Ar-Pharazon will kill you if he finds out, 'Razi. We may all die, if he knows you turned traitor or even just if you annoy him. And besides, you don't know the codes. You couldn't get an audience with Elendil, even if you made it all the way to Andunie over land." 

"I...I do have the codes. Sabela gave them to me, when I was last home. If I can get to an officer of Elendil's, someone in his household, then I can get the message through." Sabela was Imrazor's oldest sister, and she'd taken quite a risk. 

Ancalime's grey-blue eyes reflected her surprise, and then a new-found determination. 

"Go, then." She advised her thirteen year old cousin. "Go tonight. Wear a dark cloak until you get to the gate, then at the first guard station after Armenelos, show your livery as Ar-Pharazon's squire and commandeer horses or...whatever else you need." 

"Logistics really isn't your area, is it, 'Cali?" Imrazor joked, because he didn't like to be serious. 

"It isn't." Ancalime agreed, with a toss of her pretty curls, "But coming up with excuses, is. Lucky for you - I'll tell Lord Belzagor and his lot that you've gone truant to woo a new lady-friend. That should get back to Ar-Pharazon by tomorrow afternoon, but not before that." 

"Tell Belzagor, and then go yourself, home to your family's estates." Imrazor pleaded, "Please, 'Cali. Not just because I want you safe, but because Ar-Pharazon is getting more suspicious." 

"Don't worry about me." Ancalime told him, squeezing his hand. "I can lie to good old cousin 'Phari, if I have to. And Sauron thinks me of even less interest than you - he won't look closely." Both cousins knew that if the dark Maia looked at them, really looked, that all of their deceptions and the very existence of the Secret Faithful would become known to him. But Sauron didn't think that children, or women, were a threat. Which had something to do with why Ancalime and Imrazor were still at court, when most of the more senior of the Faithful were elsewhere.

The two cousins hugged, and then Ancalime called for her maid and a light dinner. Imrazor ate quickly and then took his leave of her, and embarked on what would be his last ride through Numenor. He would make it to Elendil in Andunie, and then sail to Middle Earth with the Elendili. He would serve in Elendil's court in Arnor and Isildur's and Anarion's courts in Osgiliath. Imrazor would serve in Elendil's army and navy, fight in the War of the Last Alliance, and become the first Prince of Dol Amroth. He would marry the elven maiden Mithrellas, and father two half-elven children, Galador and Gilmith of Dol Amroth. 

Ancalime would die for Ar-Pharazon's folly, when the dark wave came to drown Numenor. All that would remain of her would be Imrazor's memory. He would always remember the vivacious, beautiful cousin who had helped him to commit treason against Ar-Pharazon.

**Author's Note:**

> To see how Imrazor's journey turned out, check out "First Light, Last Light," the next story in the series, at http://archiveofourown.org/works/1307263


End file.
